


Dreams and Memories

by Jara257



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Drama, Gen, Memories, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 08:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jara257/pseuds/Jara257
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I could feel, hear, and smell everything around me. It happened all so fast, yet only one thing was clear to me.</p><p>"No one was coming."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams and Memories

Based off of a [dream](http://warlord.co.vu/post/62989339550/more-ok-so-dudes-last-night-i-literally-had-a) from steamybot on tumblr. It's not been beta'd so all mistakes are mine.

* * *

There’s an old Vosnian myth that says if the Cybertron’s sky was ever emptied of seekers, it would literally fall and crush Vos beneath its weight. It relied on the seekers to hold it up.

The sky wasn’t empty that day. Yet Vos was crushed by it in a single day.

As bombs rained down from the skies, seekers of all classes, from the lowest of guttermechs to the haughtiest of nobles, streaked the sky as the city burned beneath them. Smoke billowed to the skies, blacking out the sky with darkened clouds. The air-borne seekers weaved through the tall spires, searching for their loved ones, many had ash caught in their turbines. They crashed into the burning structures. The smart ones, who stayed on the ground, found what they were looking for.

Each of them held greyed frames in their arms, sobbing and keening at their loss. Some of them called out for help as grounded seekers ran past them, panicking themselves.

I wasn’t one of them. At the time, my instincts probably should have kicked in and told me to hide, find some cover. Maybe they did, it’s just that I didn’t hear them.

I was right in the middle of the chaos and destruction, the various blasts around the city vibrating beneath my thrusters, the greyed frames littered around me illuminated by bright orange flames, the cries of the mourning muted through the thick smoke-filled air—or perhaps everything was muted. At the same time it was all so  _sharp._

I could feel, hear, and smell everything around me. It happened all so fast, yet only one thing was clear to me.

_No one is coming._

The bombs continued to fall, hollowing out the city to its core yet there were no rescue vehicles to be found, not a single bustling medic helping the dying or guard helping to evacuating the survivors.

_Nothing._

I wasn’t sure how to feel right then and there. One reaction stuck out in my mind, even to this day.

It wasn’t mine, though.

The last thing I remembered that terrible night was a scream. A blue seeker, on his knees among the rubble, his head thrown back as a scream tore through his vocalizer. Whether it was in rage or sorrow, I’ll probably never know. TC never spoke about it after that day, even to me.

* * *

' _…Sometimes, I don’t think he even remembe—._ ’

"Since when do you write?"

Skywarp jumped, the data pad tumbling from his hands onto the berth. He looked over his shoulder vent to find Thundercracker giving him an exasperated look.

“Uh, hey TC."

"What’re you writing, ‘Warp?” he sighed, “It better not be for some prank again."

Skywarp gave his trinemate an offended look. “I’m not all about pranks, you know. I can do other stuff too.”

Thundercracker reached over the purple seeker for the datapad. “Then, what’re you writing?”

"Hey!" Skywarp, snatched the datapad up then stood, datapad pressed to his chassis. "Don’t you know you’re not supposed to read other people’s personal journals?"

Thundercracker gave him a look. “I thought you hated human traditions.”

"Yeah, well they have a couple of good stuff sometimes," Skywarp responded defensively.

The blue seeker rolled his optics, turning to leave. “Whatever. Do what you want. Just don’t be late for patrol, alright?”

"Gotcha."

The door slid shut.

After a few moments, Skywarp turned the datapad back on, sat back down and resumed his writing.

_'Sometimes, I don't think he even remembers. Then again, he never talks his personal life anyway._

_'I'm not sure why I'm writing about this now, but I think it's because I've come to a realization (or maybe it was the high grade from last night)._

_'But the realization is this: Besides the fact that I know less about TC's history than the Autobots' eating habits, he still means a lot to me. I care about TC, always have cared, probably since the day I warped us both out of the city._

_'I'll never regret doing that. Never._

_'—Skywarp'_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and thanks to steamy.


End file.
